


find my love, then find me

by skyewart



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Dollhouse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dollhouse, F/M, Grant is her handler, Rape/Non-con Elements, Skye is an active, Skye/Ward: slowburn and consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyewart/pseuds/skyewart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John assigns Grant as Skye's new handler.</p><p>Grant has to deal with feelings, he has never really experienced before.</p><p>Skye might be more than the empty shell, everyone thinks she is.</p><p>And maybe some people always knew she wasn't just that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. good news

**Author's Note:**

> **warning:** there will be heavily implied and maybe a tiny bit graphic rape/non-con elements to this fic, _but they will not be skyeward!_
> 
> if you're not familiar with the tv show dollhouse, check out the wiki page. skye is an active and she will have multiple encounters with sleazy rich guys (*cough* ian quinn), which is definitely non-con and that's why there's the tag

He’s used to it by now.

Sitting in the van, keeping track of her vitals and following her encounter.

Her voice fills the cramped up space around him, and he tells himself that the high-pitched giggling does not make his stomach churn in all the wrong ways.

He’s been a handler for six years now.

He’s used to sitting by and watching the dolls.

John made it abundantly clear, that thinking of the dolls as anything but that, is a weakness. A weakness, Grant can’t allow himself to feel. John picked him, when he could have chosen anybody to take under his wing. But he picked Grant and he turned his life around.

Saved him, really.

Before John, before the Dollhouse, Grant was nothing but a boy with no power, no control. He had nothing, no family, no place to sleep, no place in the world.

The only thing he did have, was this deep, seething fury that set fire to his insides.

John took him in, taught him how to be strong, how to be a man.

And now Grant Ward is somebody. Not just somebody, but the best. Most handlers aren’t even sufficiently trained in hand-to-hand combat. Sure, they can handle a firearm, but Grant is different. He can take down a dozen men without breaking a sweat.

It had been hard work, but John is proud of him. He owes him. Everything Grant is now, he became because of John.

And that’s why, he grits his teeth, tells himself not to feel, and listens to the wrecked, needy sounds that Skye makes. He tries not listen too closely, but the growled commands feel like someone is pouring acid down his throat.

"Just like that, baby, yes, nice and slow.“

He cracks his neck, tries to focus on what is important. Mr. Davis, the guy who’s currently fucking his Active, has about 20 minutes left. After that, Grant is going to enter the hotel, knock on the door of their room and escort Skye back to the van.

Some of the graphs on the screen spike and when he hears Skye’s pleasured cries, he turns off the comms.

Grant closes his eyes, tries to calm himself. _Find your center, bury the anger, hold it down until you have the opportunity to release it._

 

He calms down just in time to pick up Skye.

Grant arrives, right as Davis kisses Skye on the doorstep. She’s wearing blue jeans and her plaid shirt is still partially unbuttoned. When they part and she spots him, Skye gives him a warm smile and skips towards him. Her dark, messy curls fall over her shoulders, coving her black lace bra.

"Are you ready for your treatment?“ Grant asks, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Yeah.“ Skye says, sounding a little breathless and then links her arm through his. He can see the beads of sweat still on her forehead and it might be his imagination, but she reeks of sex.

Mr. Davis nods in goodbye and Grant is so tempted to just ignore him. Or hit him. Company policy and John forbid him to be rude to any clients though, so he politely returns the gesture.

By the time they are back at the facility, Skye has shared quite a lot of details about her sex life with him. Well, technically, it isn’t _her_ sex life, it’s the imprints. It unnerves Grant, nonetheless.

"See you later, alligator.“ Skye hollers, as she’s led to the elevator and Grant leans against the van, suppressing a sigh. He needs a drink, or multiple and a punching bag.

 

It’s not like Skye’s his first Active. He’s not a damn amateur. He’s been the handler of many high-profile Actives all around the world. But when Garrett called him back to Los Angeles a month ago, he never imagined his new Active would be effecting him like this.

He doesn’t have feelings for her. She’s just an empty bodies, that gets filled up to fit the needs and desires of their clients. He doesn't even know her real name.

" _They are dolls, not humans._ “ It’s what John used to drill into him. " _Don’t ever think of them as humans. For the five years, they spend with us, they are nothing but empty shells. Dolls, rich people get to play with._ “

" _And after their five years are up?_ “ Grant had asked the first time.

" _We wipe them, give them a shit ton of money and anything else they asked for._ “ John told him, with a wink. " _It’s a sweet deal, don’t you think?_ “

Initially, Grant thought John was trying to recruit him as a doll. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that he was handsome, but John had seen his potential to be more. Back then it had really sounded like John had put it; a sweet deal. Give up five years of your life, forget the bad, remember the good, and get everything you want. Create a new life, a better one.

Now, six years within the Dollhouse, Grant isn't so sure anymore. Despite his best efforts, Grant never really learned to just see them as dolls. When he looks at them, he still sees humans. Humans, that he feels pity for. He pushes that pity down, tries to bury it deep in his bones, somewhere, John will never ever find it.

He can't disappoint John. He can’t let the man, who saved him, see his weakness.

John does not deserve that.

He deserves a loyal and strong righthand man. He deserves to be proud of his prodigy.

And Grant never feels better than when John smiles at him, calls him son and claps his shoulder proudly.

That’s exactly what he does, three hours later, when Skye is wiped, a mindless doll again and Grant has tried to let his anger out on the punching bag.

"Hit the showers, son.“ John says, watching as Grant takes off the wraps on his hands. "Then meet me in my office. I’ve got good news.“

He doesn’t wait for Grant’s answer, just turns around and leaves. Grant watches him go, flexing his hands to get rid of the numbness.

 

Grant’s not surprised to find Raina in John’s office. She’s lounging comfortably on the couch, one leg crossed over the other and nursing a whiskey. She is, as always, wearing one of her many flower dresses and it feels as though her big, knowing eyes can read his mind like it’s an open book.

And whatever she’s reading seems to be amusing her.

Grant gives her a curt nod and turns his focus towards John. "You said, you’ve got news.“

John chuckles. "C’mon, son. Relax a little, pour yourself a drink, take a seat. You know there’s this thing called small talk and it’s real fun.“

"He’s not here to relax, John. Or make small talk.“ Raina says and Grant feels like there are a million implications behind her words.

He walks towards the cabinet, that serves as a bar and pours himself a drink. Just to spite Raina. Then he takes a seat opposite her. John laughs. "That’s my boy.“

He joins Raina on the couch, and leans back. "How do you like Skye?“ He asks, sipping his own whiskey.

Grant shrugs, keeps his face passive.

"She’s not like the others, is she?“ Raina asks, and there’s this weird glint in her eyes. It makes her look almost manic.

"I haven’t witnessed anything that sets her apart from the others.“ Grant says. It’s a lie. A blatant lie, but neither John, nor Raina can ever know about it. He wears his pokerface and hopes, they don’t look straight through it.

Raina’s smile only widens. "You will. In time.“

"Flowers, why don’t you check the lab? I need some time alone with Ward.“

Raina puts down her glass, her expression stony. "I expect you to come visit me afterwards.“ She tells him, her voice sweet like honey.

"Oh, you bet.“ John says and watches her go.

 

Once the door closes behind her, Grant places his glass on the table between them and waits expectantly.

"The authorization for project T.A.H.I.T.I. finally came through.“ John says, beaming at him.

Grant lets out the breath, he didn’t know he was holding. "Finally. What do you need me to do?“

"Always the action man.“ John chuckles. "For now, I only need you to watch your doll and not get her killed.“

Grant nods.

He knew from the start of this assignment, that John had plans for Skye. He hasn’t been told what those plans are and he hasn’t asked. But he guesses that it’s important. Important enough to have him be her handler.

Now that he knows it is connected with project T.A.H.I.T.I., he has a couple of questions.

"Sir..“ Grant begins, but John cuts him off. "Not now, son. You know, what you need to know.“

Disappointment floods through him like a tidal wave, but he nods. "Yes, sir.“

"Good, then off you go. You need to be up early tomorrow. It’s Skye’s big day.“

 

Grant leaves, his mind wandering to _Skye’s big day._ Ian Quinn requested a weekend with Skye. Quinn is a big shot billionaire and if it hadn’t been for his friendship with John, Grant would have knocked out a few of his teeth the first time they met. Mildly put, Quinn is a pain in the ass. A conceited, flippant pain in the ass.

He goes to bed with a feeling of dread. He doesn’t want Skye anywhere near Quinn, but he doesn't have any say in that. The encounter is already booked, the money is paid, the personality is created. All that is left to do, is to imprint Skye, dress her up and drop her off at his doorstep.

Grant closes his eyes and focuses.

It takes hours before sleep finally claims him.

 

-

 

"Did I fall asleep?“ Skye asks, looking at the doctor with the big, dark eyes.

"For a little while.“ She replies, her voice soft as silk.

"Shall I go now?“ She isn’t sure why, but she has this urge to stand up and go downstairs. Maybe go for a swim.

"If you like.“ The doctor smiles.

Skye returns her smile with one of her own and then steps out of the room. She walks slowly, each step carefully precise, as she watches the many people around her.

Some of them look happy, painting and chatting, but there are some, who are wearing black suits, standing tall and tense. Something, an instinct maybe, tells her to stay away from them.

As Skye descends the stairs, she spots a tall figure walking quickly into one of the training rooms. She follows him, without knowing why. When she reaches the door, she watches him wrap his knuckles with a white band and then he furrows his brows and starts throwing punches.

His shoulders are squared, his knees bent. Within minutes, there’s sweat pooling on his forehead. Skye can’t tear her eyes from him. Something about him, the way he stands, the way he moves, it’s different. It calls out to her.

"Excuse me.“ A voice, behind Skye, startles her.

She turns around. "I’m sorry.“ Skye says, when she realizes that she’s blocking the door and steps aside to let the other person through.

"It’s no problem, have a nice day.“ The woman says and walks towards the yoga mats. Skye is suddenly reminded of her own wish to go to the pool and she does just that.

Swimming is nice. It relaxes her.

She didn’t know she was feeling tense before going for a swim, but afterwards, she feels a lot better.

During dinner, she sits alone at a table. The food is nice and once she’s done, she pushes the plate away and patiently waits for the others to finish.

Afterwards, she takes a shower and pulls on her nightgown. Her bed is already awaiting her, when she walks into the room with the others and climbs into the little chamber that is her own.

Just as the panel above her shuts completely, a sudden pain flashes through her mind and she gasps. She thinks, she saw a man in a dark suit, with a red tie. She thinks, she grabbed the tie and used it to pull the man closer. She thinks, the man kissed her with his teeth digging into her bottom lip and she giggled even though it hurt a little.

But then it’s gone and it seems impossible.

She hasn’t left this place in so long.

And she’s never kissed a man.

Skye turns to her side, closing her eyes and falls asleep almost immediately.


	2. trust me

Ian Quinn’s new estate is massive. According to the files, Grant receives, the place has fourteen bedrooms and twenty, _twenty_ bathrooms. What the hell does a single man do with twenty bathrooms?

Grant is not surprised really, Quinn is a show-off and he likes to dazzle business partners and the media alike.

This weekend Quinn World Wide is hosting a gala, with rich guests coming from all around the world. And since the gala will have it’s own security detail, Grant has been ordered to observe from a distance and only intervene if Skye is compromised. That means no audio or video, just her vitals. And a lot of coffee.

Grant and Skye arrive on schedule, and the look Quinn gives Skye is downright filthy. As requested, she’s wearing a tightly fitted, pinstripe suit. She looks more like a very stern business woman, than a hooker, which would be the more fitting description of her job.

"Hello, Mr. Quinn.“ Skye greets him. "It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.“

She reaches for his hand, but instead of shaking hers, Quinn pulls her closer and brushes his lips against her knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms Scott.“

Grant waits for Quinn’s go-ahead and before he makes his way back to the van, he gives Skye’s other clothes to the housekeeper.

Hours pass without anything noteworthy happening. Skye’s vitals spike a few times, but they are just the telltale signs of an r-rated encounter. Grant has found a cheap motel not far from Quinn’s and has moved his equipment into a room there. 

So, while the monitor on the desk gives him the live-feedback of Skye’s physical condition, Grant watches the news and cleans his gun. " _As a handler, you need to be ready for everything._ “ It’s another lesson, John has taught him. And like all the others, Grant has memorized every bit of it. " _You need to stay one step ahead of everyone._ “

There is only one problem. How can you stay one step ahead of everyone, when you don’t even know what game it is the others are playing? John is keeping secrets from him. Quinn is a creep, who’s planning on doing god knows what to Skye over the next few days. Raina is a mystery to everyone. And Skye herself, Grant doesn’t even want to think about Skye. She’s a doll, but sometimes when she looks at him, it feels like she’s the most real person he’s ever met.

There’s a softness in her eyes, and people like Raina or John might see it as the blank slate, the child-like state of the dolls, but it’s not. Grant isn’t stupid and he’s been around dolls for six freaking years. He knows the difference between the tabula rasa and real emotions.

Mercifully, Grant is pulled out of his thoughts, when his phone rings.

"What is it, Raina?“ He asks.

"Quinn’s guests are going to start coming in now. You might want to pay a little more attention to Skye’s vitals. A lot of our other clients are on the guest list.“

Grant snorts in response. "Any particular reasons for you to be suspicious?“

"One of the guests has booked Skye before.“ Raina tells him, her voice suddenly dark. "Let’s just say we’ve ended our business relationship with him after Skye returned to us.“

Grant swallows the urge to ask. "Why wasn’t I told about this?“

Raina sighs. "He’s name showed up on our servers only half an hour ago.“

"Great.“ Grant says. "Is that all?“

"Yes.“

The line goes dead and Grant turns off the tv. There’s no room for distractions now. He holsters his gun, picks up his equipment and goes back to van. He needs to be ready for everything.

 

Mary is having the time of her life. Ian Quinn, _the Ian Quinn_ , has her arm linked with his and she’s wearing a pink evening gown that makes her skin like it’s dusted in gold. 

"My dear, let me introduce you to Curtis Hoffman.“ Quinn says, his voice raising a little as they approach the man in question. "Hoffman, this is the lovely Mary Scott.“ 

"Nice to meet you, Ms Scott.“ Hoffman greets her, his eyes roaming over her body. It makes her feel like a piece of meat, but oddly, she likes the attention.

"Oh, please. Call me Mary. Everyone does.“ She smiles brightly and shakes his hand. He’s got moist, clammy hands and his grip is too tight.

"Mary, then. How do you like Quinn’s new home?“ Hoffman asks her.

She looks around the ballroom for what feels like the millionth time. Again, it takes her breath away. "It’s gorgeous. I was never really interested in architecture, but this place? It’s simply magnificent.“

"You should see my summer place in Puerto Rico, Mary. It’s-“ Hoffman says.

"She should, Hoffman. But you can discuss the details later.“ Quinn cuts him off. "Mary and I need to greet my other guests.“

"Of course.“ Hoffman smiles and Quinn pulls her gently away from him.

 

"You were quite rude to Mr. Hoffman.“ Mary says, after they’ve put enough distance between Hoffman and themselves.

"Don’t think too much.“ Quinn replies flippantly and Mary nods. "Alright, who are we going to meet next?“

 

 

Grant parks the van close to the estate. In case he needs to extract Skye on short notice, parking outside of the huge property would cause him to loose precious time. And maybe even endanger Skye.

Before Grant gets back in front of the monitor, he hears voices from just outside the van. He opens the door to find two of Quinn’s own security personnel, looking like they are arguing about something.

"What’s going on?“ Grant asks, jumping out of the van.

"It’s none of your business, pimp.“ One of them replies. He’s taller than Grant and a lot more bulky. Still Grant knows, he can take him.

"I asked you, what is going on?“ Grant repeats. He takes a few steps towards him, but keeps the other in his sight as well. "And if you don’t answer, I will knock out your teeth.“

The guy snorts and is about to turn away, when Grants fist connects with his jaw. He stumbles backwards, hitting the ground and making a sound like a wounded animal. "You son of a bitch.“ 

"Gibbs, maybe we should tell him.“ The other one suggests and Grant turns his attention towards him. "Talk.“

He’s not older than twenty and pretty scrawny. Grant can tell that he’s scared out of his mind. "We’ve- I mean, I have detected a security breach.“ He stutters and Grant frowns. 

"Where? And when?“

"About five minutes ago. And on the west corner of the property.“ He replies eagerly.

"Why haven’t you alerted your supervisor?“ Grant asks him, but his mind is already ahead of him.

"I have.“ He nods towards the man, who’s just now getting back on his feet.

"Ah.“ Grant sighs. "A mole, then.“ He approaches the man, kicking his legs out under him. "What are you waiting for? Alert your staff. I’ll take care of this one.“

 

The boy takes off immediately, apparently happy to be far away from the man, who’s currently struggling to get Grant’s knee off his back.

"I’m going to kill you.“ He growls, but his words sound muffled because his face is pressing into the dirt.

"Yeah, ok.“ Grant tells him, almost bored. He cuffs his wrists behind his bad and then he’s pulling him up. "Tell me who you’re working for.“

"I won’t tell you a bloody thing.“ The man spats, trying to kick Grant.

"Well, that’s that then.“ Grant sighs and slams his head against the side of his van. It’s hard enough to knock him out. Grant uses the cuffs to chain him to a tree and then he takes off.

Now that he’s taken care of the primary threat, his sole focus is Skye. Get to her and get her out.

 

A man in a black suit approaches them, leaning closer to Quinn and whispering something into his ear. Mary can’t pick up the words, but Quinn tenses. And it makes her tense, too.

"Is something wrong?“ Mary asks him, concerned.

"Look, darling. I really like you, but I right now I don’t have the time to deal with you. Why don’t you go to my office and wait there for me?“ He sounds dismissive and it hurts her.

"Did I do something wrong?“ She asks him, but he’s already unlinked their arms and is marching off with the man in the suit leading the way. 

Tears prickle in her eyes, as Mary makes her way to Quinn’s office. She wills them away and closes the door behind her. It’s cold in the room and Mary notes the open window. She walks towards it to close it.

But she never reaches it.

A pain, that makes her every nerve ending burn, takes over her body and the next thing she knows is that she’s on her knees and her hands are covering her ears. 

"I’m sorry.“ A voice says above her.

"Leave her, we can’t help her.“ Another shouts. Or maybe it just feels like they are shouting because Skye’s, no Mary’s, head is hurting so much.

She’s faintly aware that the two people are searching the room, pulling open drawers and shuffling through paper, but it feels as though she’s paralyzed.

A loud beeping noise makes Mary groan in pain.

"Time’s up, buttercup.“ The second voice says and they make their way over to the window. 

Slowly, the feeling in her body returns. First her in fingertips and toes, then her arms and legs and lastly her whole body is her own again.

The door is thrown open and in comes a man she thinks she knows. 

"Skye.“ He calls out, running straight for her. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?“

She shakes her head, feeling confused. "My name is not Skye. Or is it?“

He pulls her up, his hands surprisingly gentle and then he’s checking her for any injuries. "I’m here to get you out, Mary. I just need you to trust me. Do you trust me?“

"I do.“ She says, immediately. She is doubting many things right now, but he is not one of them. "I don’t even know your name, but I do trust you. With my life.“ 

"My name’s Grant.“ He says, his voice soft. He wraps his arm around her waist and helps her out of the room. She doesn’t pay any attention to what is happening around her. Her head is pounding and there are so many people around them, yelling and running around.

It’s all too much.

"It’s okay. We’re almost home.“ Grant tells her and she lets him guide her to wherever home might be.

 

 

"Calm down, son.“ John says, rolling his eyes. "Nobody got hurt and S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t get what they came for.“

"What did they come for, John?“ Grant askes, angrily pacing John’s office. 

"Skye.“ He replies with a shrug. "What else could it be?“ 

Grant frowns. "That can’t be right. There were two of them alone in a room with her. They could have taken her. But they left her, John. I saw the office, they were looking for something else.“

John chuckles at that. "Better for us. They were after Quinn, not our doll.“

Grant wants to scream, to hit, to do _something_. "How can you be so calm about this? Sk- One of our Actives was put in danger because of Quinn tonight.“

"But you handled it, didn’t you?“ John asks him. "You took care of the situation. And you got Skye out of there without a scratch. So, where’s the problem, Ward?“

Grant sighs. Pushes the rage down and nods. He needs to control himself. He can't slip up like this. "You’re right, sir. There’s no problem.“

"Good.“ John says, turning his back to him.

Grant knows that their talk is over, so he leaves the office and heads straight for the training rooms. His hands are trembling even through all his effort. He needs to make this stop. He needs to stop being so weak.

 

The sight that meets him in the training room, however, makes all the anger vanish.

Skye is there.

Standing in front of the punching bag, wearing gray sweats and a purple shirt. She’s got her hands wrapped messily and her hair in a high ponytail.

He approaches her, almost warily. He knows that he should keep his distance.  _She's a doll, she's a doll, she's a doll._

"Hello.“ She greets him with a warm smile.  _She's not._  

"Hi. What are you doing?“ He asks her and is surprised by how calm he sounds. 

"Boxing.“ She says with a smile. "You should know, you do it all the time, don't you?“

"Yeah, I do.“ He replies and then he steps towards her. "You’re doing it wrong, though. Here, let me help you.“ He takes one of her hands, unwraps the tape and rewraps her knuckles properly.

"That’s a lot harder than it looks.“ She tells him, not meeting his eyes like she's sharing a secret with him. 

"It’s okay, you’ll get better in time.“ He assures her, as he fixes her other hand and then he steps aside. "Show me what you can.“

 

She positions her feet, raises her hands and just from that, Grant knows that she must have been watching him. He is taller than her and so, he moves to stand behind her and corrects her. 

"You have to bend your knees just a little.“ He says, lightly touching her wrists to guide them as well. When he’s happy with her position, he stands back again and says, "Now, throw a punch.“

She does. The bag swings a little upon contact.

"Good.“ He says. "You’re a natural.“

"I try to be my best.“ She replies and throws another punch.

Grant feels like her punches aren’t hitting the bag but his stomach. For a second there, he has almost forgotten that this is Skye, his Active. A doll. The realization washes over him, he turns on the spot and leaves as fast as he can without drawing attention to himself.

He needs to keep his distance.


End file.
